


under the still-rising sun

by unholyconfessions (orphan_account)



Series: remember the secrets we've told [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Episode Related, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Set During 1.07 - Power Outage, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/unholyconfessions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry wants to say something but the words die in his throat. He finds his eyes fluttering shut as silence bounces from wall to wall, his body burning up the little energy that’s left in his system, but the coolness of Eddie’s hand keeps his brain running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	under the still-rising sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a (very short) rewrite of episode 7 "Power Outage" in Barry's perspective, with an added bonus at the end. So, if you haven't seen it yet, I wouldn't recommend reading this piece.
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual, I apologize for any mistakes. Feedback is always lovely. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Barry never thought that being robbed at gunpoint, in broad daylight, would be something he’d enjoy. 

He also never thought that the first thing he would see at work, at god-awful-o’clock in the morning, would be a person burned beyond recognition. And God, the smell… it makes his stomach queasy just looking at it. 

“I hope you both skipped your breakfast,” he says the moment he hears two sets of footsteps approaching and turns to see Eddie and Joe coming in his direction.

Eddie gives him an astounded look and Barry glances back at the body, goes into further detail when Eddie asks what the hell could do that. The more Barry analyzes the scene, the more it looks like something a metahuman could—would—do, and the tone in Joe’s voice indicates that he’s probably thinking it as well.

“The first thing we need to do is ID him,” says Joe, just as Barry crouches down next to the victim again, camera in hand.

Eddie sounds more than a bit skeptical—and maybe a little amused, Barry notices—when he stops opposite Barry, the dead guy between them, and says, “His face is melted off. How is that picture gonna help ID him?”

Barry can’t fight the smile the spreads itself on his lips as he glances up at Eddie. He raises his eyebrows, lips stretching wider over his teeth.

“I got mad skills,” he declares, and it sounds dirtier aloud than he meant to.

Eddie just gives him a contained smile, but Barry can see in his eyes that it’s solely for Joe’s benefit—and if Joe’s tone is anything to go by, it was a good call on Eddie’s part.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” Joe mutters as he circles Barry.

Barry picks himself up and approaches him when he stops walking, asks him if he’s okay. Joe doesn’t give him much to go on and Barry decides not to push it. 

“Alright,” he says, nods, and walks away.

***

Another thing Barry was definitely not expecting was to lose his powers as suddenly as he got them. The wave of electricity that runs through him doesn’t hurt more than the thought of not being able to be fast anymore, to help people.

The emptiness that takes over him when he realizes that he might not ever get his powers back is enough to make him want to quit trying. The solution Dr. Wells is working on might not be a viable one, and Barry would rather not disappoint himself.

Caitlin, when Barry explains to her how useless he feels without his speed, takes a step in his direction as if to comfort—or kiss—him, but Cisco barges in before she can.

Barry wonders if Iris would do the same if she knew.

(He knows Eddie would.)

***

His life has been nothing but a series of unforeseen events since he became the Flash.

Super speed, a weather-controlling man, a woman that explodes everything she touches, a bully that turns into steel, being locked in S.T.A.R. Labs with a man that feeds off electricity: those are all things he can deal with, that he can wrap his head around. 

The thought of Iris being held hostage at the station after Captain Singh drops the bomb on him and hangs up: that isn’t.

***

The first thing he does when he regains his powers and stops Zappy from killing them all is head to the station.

It looks like a crime scene when he gets there: yellow tapes sealing off rooms, S.W.A.T. swarming the place, fear staining the air and clinging to him like a bad omen. Barry’s stomach drops as his eyes do a quick scan of the situation and Iris is nowhere to be seen.

Eddie is wheeled past him in a gurney and Barry’s brain comes up with a million theories of what might have happened. Captain Singh gives him a nod as he walks out with Eddie, and Barry watches them go for a moment, keeps watching even as feet move along to try and find Iris.

He does find her, not a minute later. She’s at the top of the stairs, sitting on a step as Joe’s arms wrap around her, a hand stroking her hair, and Barry has to let out a breath that was trapped in his chest, has to smile because she’s okay. Iris is okay.

***

Eddie, when Barry goes see him at the hospital, sounds like he might have drowned in a pool of Caitlin’s almost-500 proof homebrew.

“Hey, Allen,” he says, stretching his vowels, and he sounds like he hasn’t seen Barry in a year.

Barry smiles, places the vase on the table at the foot of Eddie’s bed. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Flowers!” Eddie pouts, smiles, laughs. Boy, he’s high. “So nice.”

“Where were you all night?” Iris asks as she leaves her spot beside Eddie’s bed to give Barry a one-armed hug. Barry struggles not to hold onto her longer than he should, keeps his eyes on Eddie instead.

“Home,” Barry lies with a smile. “Trying to eat all the ice cream before it melted.”

“I love ice cream!” Eddie says through a manic laugh.

Barry can’t help but laugh along, nodding as Iris explains that her boyfriend’s on pain meds. Eddie’s gaze looks lost as Barry watches him; it trails from Iris to the ceiling, to Joe, and to Barry without actually focusing on anything.

Iris excuses herself to go get some coffee and Barry takes her spot next to Eddie’s bed, asks him how he’s doing, and saves the flowers he brought before they can hit the floor as Joe shoves at them. Joe looks apologetic, but also relieved when Barry places the vase back onto the table.

“I guess you’re feeling better,” Joe whispers to him, leaning closer.

Barry smiles, nods. “Oh, yeah.”

***

The Flash meets Iris in the hallway. He doesn’t kiss her, this time, but he promises he’ll never be late for her again.

She forgets her coffee.

***

Eddie’s hospital room is dark when Barry visits again, later that night.

Iris and Joe are at home, Barry having convinced her that she couldn’t do anything for Eddie if she was tired. She agreed to go, but not without Joe promising her they would be there as soon as she woke up in the morning, which Barry figures, if he knows Iris at all, is going to be before sunrise.

Smiling, Barry pulls up a chair as quietly as he can and makes himself comfortable next to Eddie. There’s only a sliver of moonlight illuminating the room, but he can see as Eddie’s chest rises with every breath, slow and steady. Barry gives out a sigh, his fingers twitching to reach out and touch, but not quite.

“Allen?”

Barry jumps from his seat. A cough breaks the silence and he reaches out to place his hand on top of Eddie’s. Eddie’s fingers are cold as he squeezes them.

“Hey, Eddie,” he says for the second time that night.

Eddie squeezes back without much energy and Barry smiles even though Eddie probably can’t see it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you,” Barry offers, taking a seat again but not releasing his grip on Eddie. “For her.”

Eddie coughs again, makes a whimpering sound in the back of his throat before saying, “’s alright, Allen. I think we can handle ourselves.”

Barry hums in agreement, but can’t help the bad taste in his mouth. “You both could’ve died,” he says, resting his elbows on the battered, skinny mattress. “I wasn’t there for you. Either of you. And now—”

“Iris is fine,” Eddie cuts through him, punctuating his pause with another squeeze around Barry’s hand, “and I can take a bullet. Don’t beat yourself up. You can’t save everybody.”

Barry wants to say something in response, but the words die in his throat. He finds his eyes fluttering shut as silence bounces from wall to wall, his body burning up the little energy that’s left in his system, but the coolness of Eddie’s hand keeps his brain running.

“You’re hot,” Eddie says when Barry moves his hand to Eddie’s forearm, which seems even colder.

Barry chuckles. “Thanks. I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that.”

“You know what I meant, Allen,” Eddie says, his voice lower than usual. Barry fidgets in his seat. “And somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Barry smiles at the veiled compliment and moves his hand again, this time to fish his phone out of his back pocket. He places it on the bedside table, screen on, in time to see Eddie smile back at him.

“Hey.”

Barry can’t seem to keep the smile from tugging at his lips when he replies with a quiet, “Hey,” back. He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t want to.

His mouth grows dry when Eddie’s eyes lock on him. He can see Eddie now, clear as day, and there’s something there—something that hasn’t been directed at him very often, something he wishes he’d see in Iris. He swallows around nothing and the sound is too loud in the stillness of the room. 

His brain wants him to run, but his body moves like muscle memory, doesn’t allow him to stop himself from dipping forward and lowering his mouth to Eddie’s. 

It’s not a perfect fit: he ends up getting more of Eddie’s chin than anything, but it’s enough to make his stomach twist into knots. 

“I promised her I would never be late for her again,” he says as he pulls away, forehead resting against Eddie’s. He falls back into his seat, elbows propped up on his knees. “I’ll never be late for you either, Eddie.”

“Allen,” Eddie says, a lazy smile sprawling on his face. “You don’t need to.”

Barry smiles back and nods. “I know,” he tells Eddie, picking himself up so he can sit at the edge of the mattress, his back to Eddie but his neck twisted so he can look at him. “I _want_ to.”

Eddie’s eyes are alight when they meet Barry’s, and Barry finds it hard to look away. He doesn’t, even as Eddie’s fingers sneak up under his sweater and shirt like ice against his skin, resting against his ribs. Eddie’s thumb runs lazy circles on him, sends a rush of endorphins down his spine as it presses just at the right spot on his back. 

“Eddie,” he says, and he doesn’t mean for it to sound like a whimper. He swallows as every hair on his body stands to attention. “I can’t.”

Eddie’s fingers trail a map down to Barry’s navel and Barry can’t breathe, can’t think. Eddie moves behind him and pushes at his clothes, up and up until he has no option but to slide the sweater off, taking both it and the shirt at the same time.

The air is cold as it clings to his skin, makes him gasp at the sudden change in temperature. In half a second, his metabolism ensures that his body is warm again, but Eddie’s lips against his spine make sure that the goose bumps don’t go away.

He finds that Eddie’s name is all he can say as Eddie’s hand skate up to his chest, palm over his heart, and pulls him closer. Barry arches into the touch, lets his eyes flutter shut and chooses to let his body feel, forces his brain to stop thinking. 

“Allen,” Eddie whispers. Barry’s hands search for something to hold on to and he curls them over the bed’s edge. “Are you sure?”

Barry nods, can’t trust himself to do anything else. Eddie’s hand and mouth leave him, giving him time to breathe without feeling like he’s choking around oxygen. He glances over his shoulder to see Eddie kneeled on the mattress, eyeing his back as if asking himself the question and not knowing the answer to it.

The light coming in through the curtains goes from silver to a pale yellow, ignites the room with an aura that implies Iris will be there soon: the sun’s come up.

Their eyes meet over Barry’s back and the question passes between them again. Neither of them has to answer it to know that they won’t—they _can’t_ —do this, not now, maybe ever. 

“I—” he stutters, clears his throat. “I should go.”

Barry could vanish in a matter of seconds, but he doesn’t. Instead, he picks up his clothes and throws them on again as Eddie settles back under the covers, his back against the pillows propped up behind him. Barry stands for a moment, his eyes fixed on the off-white floor as he wipes a bead of sweat from his temple. He searches for words, anything that won’t make him sound like he’s running away.

They don’t come to him until he’s at the door. He stops, turns around, raises his eyebrows at Eddie. “Do you—”

“Yes.”

Barry blinks. “You don’t even know what I was I was going to ask.”

“The answer’s yes, Allen. I would love to have ice cream with you.”

Barry doesn’t bother trying to figure out how Eddie knows. He chuckles instead, nods at Eddie when Eddie smiles at him. He gestures with a finger over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna—”

Eddie nods back. “Go.”

Barry whooshes by Iris and Joe on his way out.

_

end

_


End file.
